I’m going to pause here to tell a story that I think fits well with yesterday’s post about fear-based conversion.
I don’t generally like to talk about my kids on this blog. I have a separate blog about being a mom. There are a lot of reasons for that, which I won’t get into here. But I wanted to tell this story because I think it’s a fitting example of why I feel so frustrated with the concept of the “real” Christian.
Back in October, our church held a special baptism service. This isn’t surprising, it’s a Baptist church. For the uninitiated, that means that we don’t baptize infants or young children, only adults who have stated belief in Jesus. I actually have no problem with this; in fact I agree with it. I think that it’s important for people to make their own choices about matters of faith, including whether or not to engage in the rites of a particular religion.
Anyway, My son, age 7, wanted to be baptized. I was hesitant, as I think he is very young. I would prefer he be at least an adolescent, to be certain that he isn’t making a choice because we his parents said so. But my husband felt that it would be acceptable if he really wanted to do it. So I reluctantly agreed. I checked with our church and was told that generally, they don’t baptize anyone under age 10. But if he was able to make a clear statement of faith, then they would consider it. The children’s ministry director sent us a list of questions to ask our son, to find out whether he really understood his faith. I have to admit to being uncomfortable with some of the questions, but my husband went over them with our son and said that he thought he was ready.
Our son met with the children’s ministry director, who asked him the same questions. In the end, she determined that he was not ready for baptism. Her reasoning was that he did not seem to understand the “role of his own sin” or the purpose of salvation. He apparently told her that he needed to “be a good person” in order to go to Heaven (presumably rather than that he needed to just believe in order to be saved from Hell). He also didn’t seem to be quite ready to explain just how he came to be “saved.”
I admit that I was a bit relieved, on several levels. First, I didn’t think he was ready anyway. Second, I’m glad he wasn’t just spitting back the correct answer as learned in Sunday school. He’s a deep thinker and I believe he has a better handle on the meaning of salvation and faith than many of the supposedly “mature” members of our church. For him, all that’s important is that God loves him and he loves God. Yet at the same time, I was bothered by the fact that the people at our church, in a position of authority or not, believe they have the right to decide whether my son is a “real” Christian. Afterward, I was talking with a friend from another church about what had happened. He knows our church (and is somewhat unimpressed with it). He said, “For the record, I wouldn’t want to be baptized at your church. Don’t worry about it.” I was strangely comforted by that.
In the end, what was off-putting about the whole thing was that even though my husband and I know for certain that our son believes, the church deemed him to be something other than a “real, true Christian” because they have a pretty narrow definition. Tomorrow, I will explain more about that and how damaging it is to our collective body of Christ when we try to apply that kind of label.
